


Tell Me

by 51stCenturyFox



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-17
Updated: 2009-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/51stCenturyFox/pseuds/51stCenturyFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto is a planner. He likes to know what's coming before he does, and, as it turns out, so does Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to copperbadge and amand_r for beta help.

Misfiled, mishandled mistakes. Ianto's shoulders were tight, his mood irritated as he plunged through a stack of folders on top of the filing cabinet in the hall near Jack's office. "Fuck _me_ ," he muttered to himself, but he was overheard.

"Yeah?" Jack closed several feet of distance and whispered softly into the space between his hairline and the top of his grey suit collar. Ianto shivered and Jack saw it, sensed it, kept talking, his voice low: "Because I'd like to, right here against this cabinet."

Ianto swallowed and turned his head slightly. "Would you, now?" he asked calmly. He could hear Jack take a deep breath.

"Oh yeah."

"How would you accomplish that, then?"

Jack paused before continuing, and when he did, Ianto could hear it in his voice: a smile.

"Well, you could put your hands flat on top. Jacket on, trousers pulled down, maybe just around one leg so I can spread your thighs apart with my knee, kind of rough, but you know it's a game. I'd leave my clothes on and maybe just push your jacket up in the back so I can see you. So I can touch you."

Ianto's back straightened and he felt a tickle along his nape as Jack paused, breath warm.

"You'll be ready... don't worry. I'll stroke your cock, but you're gonna be so fucking hard anyway, Ianto. I'll slick up, too, before I fuck you with my fingers and take you right to the edge -- before I push your shoulders forward -- and you'll have to pull that cabinet out so you can get a good, tight grip along the back -- before I ease in, slow. I'll be so slow... shallow at first, too, just how you like it. You control the pace, and after a while, we'll be moving together. I'll fill you, Ianto. It'll be good... it'll make your legs shake, I promise. Then I'll start to pump, hard, and jerk you off, too. You're going to come all over the front of that drawer and then I'll come inside you. It'll be so... fucking... _hot_."

Ianto inhaled as Jack moved away without touching him at all. He had to uncurl his hands and stretch his fingers before he reached for the fourth folder in the stack. He didn't commence organising files until the tiny dents his nails had left in his palms stopped aching.

Later that afternoon, when Ianto was almost finished with the offending stack of files, he felt one of Jack's hands on his shoulder and the other toying expertly with the front of his belt. Everything went just the way Jack said it would. He didn't talk, then -- there were moans and breathy exclamations but Ianto's mind filled in the blanks and knew exactly what was coming until he came himself.

Sex with Jack was never, ever bad, but this was the best sex they'd had in _weeks,_ Ianto thought.

  
*

Two days later, he walked up to Jack as he sat at his desk labeling artefacts. "Tell me, Jack..." Ianto began, and let the words hang in the air. Jack looked up expectantly, ready to answer a question about requisitions or what he wanted for lunch, but when he saw Ianto's expression, a corner of his mouth quirked upward and he crooked a finger as if to say _lean forward. Come here and listen_.

"I'm sending Gwen home at six on the dot, Ianto," Jack said, his voice low. "Then I'm taking a shower. You can too, if you like, but you should wait until you know I'm in my quarters. I won't bother dressing. I'll be on my bed, maybe having a catnap, since it's been a long day. You're going to nudge me awake." Jack put the artefact down with care and Ianto leaned forward, his knuckles turning white against the old, mellow wood of the desk.

"When you wake me, and you'll think of a good way to do that, I'm sure, I'll see you're not wearing a stitch. You know I think you look good in a suit, but I like you bare, too. That's even better." Jack took a sip of cooling Jamaican Blue Mountain from his striped mug and looked back up, nailing Ianto with his gaze. "I bet you didn't know I have a set of handcuffs. UNIT issue. Did you know that?"

Ianto realised a response was expected of him and shook his head, and Jack continued.

"I'm going to sit you down on the end of the bed and lock your wrists together, before I take out my cock and give it to you, and you can do whatever you like. But I know what you like, don't I? You like the taste of my cock. You love it when I fuck your beautiful mouth. I know because of the sounds you make, Ianto." Jack's voice was breathy, low, but oddly matter-of-fact, as if he were saying, "Looks like rain tomorrow; you really should bring an umbrella."

Ianto stared at Jack's pupils, the soft set of his mouth.

"Lads." Gwen's voice broke through. She stood in the doorway, hand on the frame. "I'm out to run an errand. Should I bring back sandwiches for lunch? I'm taking orders."

Jack turned to the door. "Um..." he said.

"We've got curry left over from last night," Ianto said, his eyes on Jack, still. "But we're out of naan bread, if you wouldn't mind picking some up."

"Not at all. Back in a bit," Gwen said, sprightly and cheerful as she jingled her car keys in retreat.

"Where were we?" Ianto asked. His voice characteristically wry but slightly breathless.

"Oh." Jack tilted his head. "Right. Well... where was I?"

"I was sucking your cock."

"Oh," Jack said again, and his eyes, though still focused on Ianto's, took on the tint of reverie. "Yes. Well."

"Maybe I find the key, then. You'd probably leave it right there on the bed," Ianto prompted, and plucked a stray bit of string from his jacket sleeve. "I'd like to have my hands free."

"Would you?" Jack asked, and Ianto suspected he'd lost his partner's full attention. He circled the desk and sat on the edge, to Jack's left.

"Then," Jack murmured. "Then."

"Mmm hmm," Ianto replied, eyes on a wavering seam in the ceiling. There might have been a leak at that spot at one time.

"Then..." Jack continued, "Then what happens, Ianto?"

"I pick up the key. I unlock the cuffs. The cuffs are... intriguing. Maybe some other time you can cuff me to one of the bars at the top of your headboard."

Jack groaned and pulled at the fabric at the front of his trousers.

"But tonight at six... twenty," Ianto said, "I unlock the cuffs, and grip your hips. I push you back onto your bed. Your inadequately-sized bed."

"It's not a big bed at all," Jack agreed quickly, sounding unconvincingly contrite. "Not big enough."

"No, it's okay," Ianto said, and paused before speaking again. "I push you backward on the mattress. Then I sort of... crawl up alongside before I straddle you. It'd be nice to get some reciprocal cocksucking in, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," Jack said, absently, then raised his eyes to Ianto's. "I'd like that."

"I know. I do too. That thing you do, with your tongue along the underside? That's exquisite."

Jack smiled, slowly, and Ianto thought of a sleepy crocodile. He turned slightly, and kept talking, his tones smooth and measured while his left knee pinned Jack to the back of his chair.  Ianto outlined, described and elaborated, and once in a while, Jack nodded.

Gwen returned with a foil-wrapped stack of warm Indian bread and they fell upon the leftover curry. After lunch, Jack left the conference table with beads of sweat popping along his hairline and Ianto cleared the table and returned to the scheduling software on his screen with great difficulty.

For some reason, he found it terribly hard to concentrate.

Gwen grinned when Jack dismissed her at 4:30. "You're serious? Early night on a Thursday, Jack?" She pressed a grateful kiss to his temple and patted Ianto on the shoulder as she grabbed her tiny backpack and gleefully headed for her flat, planning to greet Rhys at the door when he arrived home for a bit of a turnabout.

By the time the Hub door came to a grinding close, Jack was already heading for the shower.

Ianto set his watch forward by an hour and a half.  
 

  



End file.
